


wanna be in the show? come on baby let’s go

by michaelsgang (orphan_account)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Danny’s giant hands are the reason Sean can’t focus enough to win, For my anon 💞, M/M, Shoutout to Meg who sent me the article while I was on the bus, Soft crack taken way too seriously, The Ping Pong Fic, The real reason I waited was bc I wanted to post on the first day of pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/michaelsgang
Summary: Beating Danny is easily the top five things he’s proud of. Even if it took a while to get here.Or Noel is his Mr. Miyagi and shows him how to properly play ping pong.Or five times Danny beat Sean and one time Sean beat him.





	wanna be in the show? come on baby let’s go

**Author's Note:**

> Technically an anon just wanted a bit of fluff on tumblr, but as I was writing it, this idea kinda stuck with me. 
> 
> This isn’t beta’d sorry guys I’m a messs. 
> 
> Title is from: working for the weekend by the loverboy
> 
> Thanks for reading!

 

> 1.

The first time Danny beats him, it’s majorly unfair. Sean hasn’t picked up a paddle since the six grade when he went to overnight camp and tried playing to impress Counselor Jenny. Needless to say he didn’t succeed in seducing the woman, but he was also like twelve.

Not only that, but Sean’s kind of a sloppy drunk, and he’s had at least three beers tonight. Tonight marks their third date together, even if all they did was share drinks in a private corner away from the team. It was still romantic because Sean knows he’s got game, and Danny is just a little easy. But it’s fine because Sean plans to thoroughly woo him so the man wouldn’t have to be easy for anyone else.

“They’ve got a ping pong table out there.” Danny comments lowly, his breath fanning over his neck like Sean isn’t just as easy for him. Slowly, he follows the finger pointing toward the outside area of the hotel. Beyond the adorable wooden tables and the gazebo, there’s a deck with what looks like cornhole and a ping pong table. How Danny manages to see that through the dim porch lights is beyond him.

“Do you want to play?” Sean asks because he is a gentleman, and they’re still technically on their date. Impromptu and last minute, but any time he gets with Danny is special to him. As cheesy as it sounds.

Danny looks as though he wants to say no, but Sean can see the excitement in his eyes.

“C’mon, just one game. I’ll even let you win.” And how wrong he was. It turns out that Danny is a fucking wizard and pulls moves Sean’s never send before. And he’s watched the Olympic ping pong matches once.

He’s sweaty by the time the match ends, while Danny looks like he’s just catching his breath. The score was literally 1-11 three times in a row, and that’s because Sean’s serves were actually pretty killer. That or Danny let him get a point every game. It would be sad if he wasn’t just a little endeared that Danny would let him get a single point each time.

“Do you,” Danny bites back a smile. “Have you never played ping pong before?” And it’s downright insulting, but his eyes twinkle under the moonlight, and his flushed cheeks make Sean’s knees a little weak.

He pouts. “We’re on a date, you should’ve let me win.” Had Danny forgot the Dating Your Best Friend Etiquette book that Jakey got them last week?

Across from him, the man just rolls his eyes and catches his hand. “How do I know you didn’t let me win?” There’s nothing he could say to really argue that point, so he lets Danny guide them back inside the lobby of the hotel.

“We’ll just have to have a rematch.” He shrugs easily as they step into an elevator. Next to him, Danny laughs quietly. It’s a great sound, one he wants to hear for the rest of his life, or for as long as Danny wants for him to hear it.

“Don’t be mad at me when you lose again.” But he’s smiling up at Sean, their faces just inches apart that it would be ridiculously easy to lean forward and bring their lips together.

He does because he’s not too mad over losing.

 

 

> 2.

There’s a ping pong table in the lounge that’s only really used by Charlie and Danny. He never really noticed it because he couldn’t focus on much else with the man’s fingers tightening around the paddle like it’s nobody's business.

Sean drops the worn red paddle in Danny’s lap after practice. No one asks how he got it when he made a beeline for the lounge right after practice ended. “You, me, and two paddles.”

Danny gets that look again, the one where he wants to say no to spare his feelings or whatever. But Sean’s pretty solid in his own like pride; he just wants to play with his boyfriend.

 

(Had he mentioned that yet? It only took another date, technically. Danny has made an offhand comment about sharing a room with Pasta for their Toronto series.

“Well seeing that I’m your boyfriend, I think he wouldn’t mind switching.” They both share wide eyed expressions as his words fall in heavy silence. What the fuck, why did he say that, what the fuck-

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Boyfriends eh?” But still, that was totally premature like what the hell is he in high school again? Sean groans into his hands, hoping to hide his blush. Seriously, why him?

“Hey, I was gonna talk to you about that anyway. I’m ready if you are.” Suddenly, Danny’s placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks up carefully, still very embarrassed. Where has his brain to mouth filter gone?

“I mean- are you sure?” He wants to be serious about this, more serious about their relationship than any of his past ones. There’s a shit ton of risks involved in this, but the last thing he wants to ruin the prospects of a relationship is him moving too fast.

Danny tilts his head at him. “I’m sure, Sean, let’s do this.” And hell yeah, they’re boyfriends now.)

 

“How are you not tired? We just finished practice.”

“C’mon it's just one match. I swear.” Something a lot like excitement fills up his gut, bubbling up his chest the longer Danny mulls over the preposition. With an eye roll, the man stands with minimal complaints. Sean pumps a fist to himself.

“Promise you’re not gonna be pissed.” He asks. There’s a hint of seriousness behind his words, but Sean doesn’t read too into it. It’s just a game, and it’s not like he’s placing money on it. Instead of replying, he knocks his elbow into Danny’s with a quiet nod. It’s ridiculous how well they read each other.

“Only if you promise to not go easy on me.” There’s a second where he looks like he’s going to argue, but it dissolves on his face.

Unsurprisingly to no one, Sean gets completely blown out of the water. It’s kind of sad how he loses 0-11, 2-11, and 0-11 again. Like he doesn’t have to pretend to be upset over it, because maybe fifty percent of him is actually sad. The other fifty is pretty turned on by how good Danny is at ping pong. Like what’s in the Canadian water? Does he spend his every free minute practicing? It’s insane.

“Is it weird to say that I’m sad and turned on right now? Because I am, and it’s all your fault.” He admits, absolutely no shame as they clean up. He half wants to play again because there’s no way that Danny’s this good all the time. How had he missed this? Sean needs to make some arrangements to make sure they’re together during the next Pucks and Paddles.

Danny shakes his head. “I told you, dude. Can we go home now?” The whole ping pong thing leaves his mind for a second; they don’t live together, but having Danny over is always the move. Maybe he could get some like comfort sex out of this. That’s actually not even a bad idea.

“Yeah, come on.” But Sean’s already devising a plan for their next match up. He doesn’t care how many times he’s got to lose until he wins one game.

**joyeux noel**

ur form was kinda horrible

no offense

don’t keep ur elbows so close to ur body bro

 

 

> 3.

(Noel makes him come in early the next day, because neither of them own a ping pong table. He shows him something about finding heights and correcting his top spin. It all sounds like nonsense, but he can feel something clicking. He doesn’t see what the man gets out of helping him, but Sean guesses it’s just a free excuse to peg a hundred balls at him.

“Your serve is pretty good, but you just need to- here.” Never mind, Noel has fucking game because he covers Sean’s hand with his own and uses his free one to move his shoulders around.

“Like that.” It’s stupidly cliche that he turns bright when Zee walks in. They all kind of stare at each other, with the silence laying on thick. No one says anything either, and Noel still hasn’t let go of him- and it’s just all kinds of awkward. Zee just nods and steps back out.)

 

They don’t talk about the Incident because Danny and Sean are banned from using the ping pong table. He’s not even allowed to talk about it because Cassidy threatened to get rid of the whole damn table, and Charlie and Jakey gave them a pretty intimidating stare after he says so.

 

(“And Heinz throws the paddle at him.” Brad shouts, his voice laced with laughter and alcohol. The whole goddamn bar can probably hear them, making him a little uneasy. Cassidy has eyes everywhere.

The waitress’ eyes grows a little as Danny flushes about ten shades darker. She didn’t look like she was paying much attention as she waited for their orders, but Brad’s got a sick party trick of getting random strangers to hear whatever shit the team did that day.

“It didn’t hit him. He ducked.” It was pretty close.)

 

“Are you fucking-” Sean purposely dodges the ball coming down the middle line, losing the last point. He feels happier this time, after losing 0-11 again. Every point Danny got was because he kept missing, you know, like a dick. It started off because he didn’t want to show off his newly minted skills, then he noticed how pissed Danny started getting. His ears turn red, Sean was very happy to notice.

“I thought you wanted to play.” He cries, yanking the ball from the floor to start up the last game. His jaw is set tightly, which is far too hot for Sean to handle.

When Danny serves, the ball comes softer than he expected and he’s in a perfect position to absolutely spike his paddle. Sean brings his arm back, then waits a second too long and purposefully misses the ball again. Quietly, the ball bounces off the table twice before dropping off the table and rolling away. The red drains from his boyfriend’s face as he stares at the space the ball once was. It’s absolutely hilarious.

“You asshole.” Sean looks up with a wide smile just as he frisbees the paddle, aiming just above his head. It’s his gut reaction to duck, and they’re both watching the paddle go flying straight at the decorative bowl of fruits on the counter. The paddle manages to fall back into the counter while the bowl tips over and sends its contents flying as it shatters on the ground.

They freeze. Oh shit.

“That was not supposed to happen.” They share a look– there’s the sound of footsteps outside of the lounge and in comes Bergy, his eyes zeroing in on the broken bowl.

“We can explain.” Sean says quickly. The guilt is written on both of their faces.

 

(“I wasn’t actually trying to harm you.” Danny murmurs, a warm hand running through his hair gently. His heart swells. He can’t find anything good enough to say, so he settles on pressing a chaste to his neck.)

 

 

> 4.

The ride back to the hotel is long enough for him to fall into a light sleep. Danny’s fingers are tangled in his hair, the touch combines with the steady hum from the bus makes him fall asleep relatively quick. It’s not his fault that his boyfriend’s shoulder is comfortable.

When they arrive, there isn’t much commotion from them because of the late hour. The concierge straightens up and provides them the world’s fakest smile ever.

“Wait- there’s a ping pong table here.” Someone exclaims, Sean notes as he’s shuffled along off the bus with Danny’s help. The game seemed to drag on forever. No matter how much he loves playing, he does get tired. Tonight calls for his body plus the bed.

“Heinz you coming?” He blinks slowly, his eyelids weighing as heavy as sandbags. As much as he would love to keep his boyfriend’s warmth around him, he doesn’t want to keep him from hanging back and spending time with the team.

“It’s cool I’ll meet you upstairs.” Yawning, he starts to pull away. He’s already waking up a bit more, like he could walk on his own and not pass out. Danny still looks a little concerned.

Jakey crowds his space. “You can't just head up to bed dude. You gotta play Danny first.” He doesn’t know when his losses in ping pong had struck such a high interest among the team, but it has and there’s no turning back. It’s like every chance that they’re all together, someone is trying to goad him into playing a match. It was fun, especially the times where he was so close to winning. The look of frustration on Danny’s face every time he pulls the purposefully-miss-trick is easily the best part of this whole thing.

He rubs his face. “One game.” Against his will (which wasn’t much), he lets his legs take him toward the side of the table. He ignores the look of concern on his boyfriend’s face. Sean isn’t going to die because he’s playing one game when he would rather be sleeping. In his experience it’s just easier to accept the guys than try to fight. He doubts he’d win much even if he wasn’t this tired.

“Chuck- come play ref.” Sean stretches, hoping that maybe his body will have enough energy to win one of the games. He seriously doubts it.

“This seems a little unfair.” Noel comments from his designated spot on Sean’s side of the table. It took them a lot of convincing to just have the man there to watch and keep note of Sean’s progress. Danny thought that it was another trick, and even spent that first game distracted. He didn’t win the match, but he got a game 11-9 from it.

“It’s whatever.” There’s probably a hundred things he could’ve said, but when his shoulders are being pressed down on with the weight of sleep, and his brain is already packing up to head to bed, Sean settles with the first thing to come out of his mouth. Maybe it is a bit unfair, but Danny’s so good that even if he was fully awake, it could still be considered unfair.

Everything blurs a little after that. He vaguely remembers someone threatening to find some smelling salts. It’s most definitely Marchy because he actually would. At one point, Danny had served and Sean could only watch the ball zip past him, his arms too tired to move. To no one’s surprise, he loses terribly.

Sean doesn’t think too much on it, because it’s not like he has any point to prove. Getting better sounds like fun, like a goal. Even if it’s purely to get Danny all competitive.

“Why do I feel guilty?” Danny asks, his hands fidgeting with the paddle. The match is finally over, so Sean can finally head up to their room and sleep. He notices some of the other guys dozing off on the couches, desperately trying to stay up to watch the match. Funny how they didn’t even notice that it was over.

“Because you love me and didn’t want to take advantage of me.” He mumbles. Blindly, he lets the paddle drop onto the table. His eyes have officially given up. Right around the end of the game, Sean has actually started to fall asleep just standing. He made his arm just swing back and forth, hoping to connect with something.

“Ok true. I think we should call it a night.” But Danny’s already wrapping and arm around his waist, hauling him up and away from their teammates and the table. There’s some distorted good nights as they walk away. Sean’s already forgetting about the match by the time they reach the elevator.

“I don’t think we should count this one.” Currently, Brandon is in possession of a doc filled with just a chart with Danny and Sean’s wins. He’s got zero matches, but probably a total of five games one. For a second, he wants to shake himself up and head back downstairs. He wants to win just one match, to prove that he can, to prove that he could beat the best player in their team, even if it’s just one match. Next time, he thinks as they reach their floor. Noel claims that they just need a few more practices before he could unleash his full set of skills on an unsuspecting Danny. He fills with excitement.

“Please stop talking about ping pong; I don’t wanna have dreams about it.”

 

 

> 5.

The next few times, things start to get a little more competitive. With Noel’s practices, and just sheer will, Sean gets better. Maybe not Danny good, but like a decent ping pong player good. He’s still falling short on the winning a match thing, but damn are his shots looking better and the look on Danny’s face gets scarier.

Sean’s favorite trick is when he tosses the ball as high as he can, then laughs when he misses it. Danny gets the point and when he’s already starting to get pissy because of it, he sends a side spin on his serve and gets the second point. It virtually works every time, and he gets to have a red boyfriend across from him.

Today turns out to be a perfect day for a match. Marchy has a table at his place, as do like half the guys in their team for decorative reasons. During their long break before the final, the man had invited them for a little party. Sean was feeling pretty fantastic, and not just because he’s playing in the freaking Stanley Cup Final, But because he’s surrounded by the best group of guys he could ask for. Danny’s...somewhere, probably grabbing a beer.

“We should’ve had a tournament.” Cliffy adds mournfully, as Brandon shows everyone how terrible (read: work in progress) Sean has been doing. Which is totally uncalled for because Brandon plays like crap too, even with his weirdly long arms.

“We still could, technically.” Sean can only sit back and watch as the guys start to argue over there logistics. Would they start from scratch? Maybe let the two of them keep at least three matches so that the tournament was moving along faster? There is such little time before a) their break ends and b) the post season ends. Sean doubts that win or lose, he’s going to be planning ping pong.

“That’s perfect! C’mon help me grab the table.” About four of them had formed a smaller group, typing rapidly in cell phones as they formulated a tournament. Sean was more distracted with spotting Danny walking out of the house and into the yard, a baby Marchand trailing after him. He looks just a touch confused, but slows down his walking to let the toddler keep up with him. Something stupidly fond punches him in the gut. Like who does Danny think he is, walking and talking with a baby like Sean isn’t ridiculously in love with him and is already planning their perfect future with a four bedroom house with a pair of twins.

“So I think we’re gonna have to play some ping pong. Maybe a tournament of some kind. I wasn’t listening.” The kid eventually spots her dad and goes clambering in that direction. The relief on Danny’s face is too funny to not tease him about.

“I should’ve expected that.” Against what normal people would do, the guys manage to fold and carry the whole freaking table outside, as though Marchy didn’t have room in his basement for all of them. There’s not much he could do anyway because it’s already out here. So he gets up to play. He’s been waiting for a good moment to put his progress to the test. Purposefully holding back is harder than you would think because he and Danny actually get really into it, and Sean just wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Today is that day.

He catches eyes with Noel and gives him a nod. Game time.

Unsurprisingly, he wins the first game, and makes Danny work ten times harder to gain the lead. He takes game two, shouting and hollering as Danny scowls with his one game.

During the fourth game, he’s tempted to delve into his bag of tricks. Maybe just a few to secure the match. He feels like he’s standing right at the edge, and anything could happen, a wind blowing him over, someone knocking into him, and he could fall off.

There’s a set to Danny’s jaw, the look that appears whenever his tricks are getting to him. It’s too satisfying, like he wants to beat him so bad.

Perhaps the nerves for the better of him, because Danny wins the next three games in a row, with zero mercy. He does get more than a few points in, and almost ties it up enough where he could’ve won the game, but it falls short.

“What was the trick that time?” Danny’s grabbed him and tugged him into the bathroom, long after the match ended. The sun has already set, but Sean can’t imagine going home just yet. They’re all here together as a team to just sit back and relax. The final is only a few short days away, but he needs this downtime in order to focus.

“I- what? The trick?” He was so looking forward to getting frisky in Marchy’s bathroom. Instead, he’s just pressed up against the door and not getting off. This is the complete opposite of what he thought was going to happen.

“I can’t figure it out.”

Sean grins. “Just accept that maybe I’ve been letting you win this whole time. You just got a slice of my talent.” As much as he would like being all pressed up with Danny, his dick is not in the mood for some weird interrogation head. Suddenly, he wants to go back out again. Maybe he could beat Danny again if he tried.

Danny squints his eyes. “Fine. Rematch tomorrow after practice.”

 

 

> 1+

Tomorrow comes almost too fast and not fast enough. He’s practically bouncing with nerves in the locker room, pretending to have a paddle in his hands and walking fake balls out of thin air. Danny is kind of stuck dating him, so he isn’t embarrassed to mess around like an idiot. He can feel it, the whole vibe is perfect. All he needs is one match, and that’s it. He can rub it in Danny’s face for the rest of time. Like he demands to have a nice dinner celebration, complete with zero complaints from Danny, and a lot of hand holding from him too.

“Ready Sean? Remember what I told you.” Noel looks nervous as fuck. He looks like he wants to call the whole show off and make him practice once more. But nope, he’s doing this now. This kind of confident excitement doesn’t just come around easily. Danny’s watching them curiously.

“Yeah I got it, don’t worry. I’ll remember you when I’m famous.” He sends a wink to the older man, and the two of them relax just a fraction. Sean stretches a little as they wait for the team to trickle in.

“In all seriousness, thanks.” He mutters with an elbow bumping into Noel’s. A flash of pride washes over his face.

“It was my pleasure.” They share a fist bump, very much ignoring how much Danny is staring at them. He thought that the man would figure out by now why he’s been hanging out with Noel so much, but it appears that it’s gone completely over his head.

“We good to start?” And like that, they’re starting. Sean focuses entirely on getting the ball as low as he can on every return. Working with Noel has perfected his serve to the point where Danny loses mostly every point because of that. His tricks are an afterthought, something to use as backup if he’s really falling behind. Sean just wants to beat his boyfriend fair and square, nothing icky about it.

They tie the games up 2-2, and they’re forced to take a five minute break before they start. It’s like the beginning of the third period. So many chances, but so many things can still happen. He could build a lead then go crashing. Danny would lead and finish strong. There’s endless possibilities. Maybe they even tie it up 10-10 and then it’ll feel like overtime.

“You’re doing good, relax.” He’s technically not allowed to be coached, but if he’s just standing there and Noel’s offering some moral support, that isn’t coaching. He takes the advice and rolls his shoulders a bit.

When they start back up again, the room is mostly silent with the tension. Sean can’t find it in himself to goof around or attempt a sly trick when it’s this close. Danny might cry for a call if he tries anything, so he doesn’t want to risk it.

He misses the last shot and lets Danny’s tie it up 10 to fucking 10. How is that even possible. Game six and they’re tied up in overtime. Sean wants to vomit. He gets so stressed out in ot it’s actually really sad. The fact that he’s scored a lot of his career goals in overtime is really ironic.

“You’re so clutch, dude, c’mon.” Noel mutters, but it’s loud enough that Danny hears and glances at him. Sean lets him mull over the words as he bounces the ball against the table a few times. It’s his serve, his fucking killer serve that could just about win it all if he just focuses.

He lays the ball flat on his hand, taking a deep breath as he positions himself. Just as he brings his paddle back to hit the ball, Danny gasps.

“You were helping him!” It’s too late for Sean to stop, and the ball is in play. It’s like a movie where everything moves in slow motion. The ball goes flying off his bounce, aiming directly at the corner of Danny’s side, and then bouncing too fast for him to reach. Normally, Danny gets a piece of them, or just about misses them. This time, he’s frozen in ready position, but his attention is on Noel.

“Game! Match!” Someone shouts and everything returns back to speed. The room absolutely erupted into commotion, jumping over couches and stools to crowd Sean. It’s exactly like overtime, he notes, feeling the heavy hands of his teammates trying to grab a piece of him in unabashed joy. He’s screaming right into Noel’s face, his literal coach.

“Sean fucking Kuraly!” In a movie, there would probably be fireworks, or champagne showers. Maybe he would push through the crowd to find the love of his life and kiss h-

Oh shit Danny. The man looks more resigned than upset, at least. He doesn’t want to fight that he wasn’t ready, and would probably lose the argument anyway. In the middle of the crowd, Sean catches his eyes, sparkling like he’s more proud than anything. There’s a hint of a smile as the world slows down around him. All of this build up, all of the secret practices with Noel, everything, has finally paid off. He feels like ten percent bad right now, but that’s because he’s a little biased and doesn’t want to ever make Danny upset. The majority of him is already planning the parade.

“We need to get a picture or something.” Chucky offers, like this was a real and important moment in their careers. Except it’s not, even if it’s a sick ass achievement for him.

They end up taking about thirty pictures, all with Sean grinning with his paddle. He takes the one with just him and Noel and shows Danny it later.

They’re cleaning up dinner when he pulls his out the picture, still smiling from the memory. Beating his boyfriend was long overdue. And he gets bragging rights until tomorrow. He has some hope that maybe he’ll win another match. They could start a real tournament with the whole team this time, now that he knows he could win and beat the best ping pong player.

“So he was your coach? Your Mr. Miyagi?” They both stare at each other for a second before bursting out in laughter. No one really knows how fun Danny is. There’s something intimate about the idea that only Sean gets to see him like this, to have Danny under every layer he puts up when he’s not alone. That, he decides, is far better than beating him at ping pong.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I lowkey.....hate this but I didn’t want to leave Meg or the anon waiting lol. Maybe one day I’ll get better at working under pressure.
> 
> Like always thank you so much for reading! Feel free to drop by my inbox if you’d like. I’m @twopointroux on tumblr :)


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